:-[Chapter 36]-:
"Very well. In the name of King Rhaegar, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, I officially declare that the First Crusade has begun. The war will begin tomorrow, at dawn."
Jon Arryn turned his horse around, nodding to Ser Darry to follow him. They were almost at the gates when they heard Lord Rickard Stark saying one last sentence for the last time before they would see each other in war.
"Winter is coming for you Jon."
:-[T.A.B]-:
There it was. The war had finally begun, thought Harry grimly. There was no going back now, everything the young wizard had learn brought him to this moment. He turned toward his mentor, who was throwing daggers with his eyes into the back of his old friend. The young wizard said nothing aloud, but he knew the older man was weary. It was a culminant moment in the history of the North.
"Triple the guards along the southern walls. Keep the same number of men and woman on the northern walls, no need to start being attentive now." Rickard said to his young protege.
"Aye, my lord. You all heard him!" Harry said firmly. "I want soldiers on that wall five minutes ago!"
The young lord immediately heard his captain Rywen barking orders left and right. Men and women were coming out of the multiple barracks ready for this exact situation. Harry had insisted on drills to maximize their efficiency. In less than five minutes, the walls were full of deadly archers.
"Now it begins." the Old Wolf said in a grim voice. "When will you start your plan, Lord Winterstorm?"
"Tomorrow, when they will attack." started the young lord. "It will force the first wave to stick in place due to the wind and our arrows will destroy them from above. Strong winds will destroy any chance they have of hitting us with their own arrows. They will freeze in place after a few days. I highly doubt they brought enough blankets and furs for this whole army. Sickness will easily spread in such an environment."
"Good. Let us pray your plan goes well on the morrow." Rickard said, looking ready for a fight.
"No worries, my lord. Now, forgive me my lord, I will go see my men to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow." Harry answered, even though they must have done it a hundred times.
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 1]-:
The air in the morning was ferociously cold. Gawen, son of Old Gawen, had never felt a cold so bitting. Yes, he knew winter in the Reach but this, this was something else entirely. Even in the Neck, the temperature was not this harsh. As the son of a hunter, he was lucky enough to have many furs on him. The wind felt like it was scratching the skin and even the muscle under it. How it was possible, the Reach man did not know. He got out of his tent, well tried to, but was stopped by a small white wall. Snow. The snow was at his waist. How in the fuck can one meter of snow fall from the fucking sky in one fucking night?
Gawen braved himself and tried to make a path between the tent toward his destination for a small breakfast before the assault against the castle. The cold was already starting to be unbearable. When he arrived to where the cooks were, he saw in horror that the food was completely frozen. The wind was far too strong for any fire to take root and thus, no way to heat the meat or vegetables.
"What the fuck is going on?" screamed one man, some distance away in the camp.
This type of commotion became very common sporadically in the camp. No one had ever seen such a storm overnight. The sound of a horn was heard, the one signaling the time to eat. They only had frozen bread this morning. This caused even more of an angry reaction and many men started screaming at the cooks who looked scared in front of the aggressiveness of several crowds but the soldiers really did not have any choice in the matter.
Gawen almost broke a tooth but he managed to eat a little by heating the bread with his mouth. It was hard to do and difficult to digest. Around an hour later, a second horn was heard. This one, put a little bit of dread in the young man's heart. This signal was to star the gathering before the initial assault. An assault that the young man from the Reach was part of. Now, he was supposed to use his short hunting bow against a fucking castle under extreme temperatures, wind and hunger. Not a great start if he was honest with himself.
'At least those northerners would have the same problems as ours.' the man thought in a vindicate way. He followed his captain, who was near him and the numerous men toward their destiny. Lord Mace Tyrell had promised a swift victory against the North. The man was supposedly a military genius if he was to be trusted.
Gawen did not know the plan, of course. A simple lowly archer like him could not possibly be in the Lord Paramount's or even less so the Hand of the King's circle of confidence. The thick morning fog made it difficult for him to see beyond just a few meters. Thanks to the fact that he was following his captain very closely, the group of archers advanced with difficulty in the new snow. The bowmen from the Reach were mainly armed with a short bow and a small weapon like an axe, mace or sword if they could afford it. Gawen had a small axe, given to him by his old father when he left for war.
"C-Captain, what are we s-supposed to do a-against the N-North?" Gawen asked with difficulty due to the very harsh cold.
"We will go around a hundred yards from the walls to give support to the levies." the captain managed to say without clattering his teeth. "We need to provide them with enough support for them to advance to the wall with the ladders."
The young archer only nodded, not trusting his mouth to say anything. Once they arrived at the frontline, the thousands of levies were getting ready. Some were vomiting, others were openly crying or calling for their family members. Gawen was of those ready to fight and had a ready look on his face. Luckily for all the men present, the wind started to slow down and the morning fog was completely gone.
Far ahead, at around three hundred yards was the great castle of Moat Cailin. Even from this distance, Gawen could feel the tension coming from the stronghold. He could also see the banners from multiples Houses floating high in the sky.
"Men! Men from the Reach! We have the honour of being the one who will make the North fall under the might of the Iron Throne!" the captain said.
"Aye! Yes! Fuck The North!" the crowd answered.
"Use your shield to cover yourself from their arrows. Move swiftly toward their walls and put those fucking heathens on their knees. Who is with me!?"
:-[T.A.B]-:
Eddard was standing on the Moat's high walls. He turned and looked toward at the DIrewolf Tower. While Harry was in the tower, getting his spell ready for the invaders, he was appointed by his lord to lead the defense. The young wolf watched as the southerners came marching toward his home. As he watched the thousands of men pumping themself to war, he himself looked at his own men. Everyone was stoic in the situation. They were all fixing the horizon with fierce looks.
"Men of the North!" screamed Eddard Stark. "I am Eddard Stark. My family has fought for these lands for thousands of years. WE have fought for these lands, together! Even if your name will not be remembered by history, your descendants will know what their ancestors did here. We will fight, to the last men for this place. We have trained for this moment for years!"
"AYE!" screamed thousands of northerners whose blood were pumping.
"You shall not pass!" Eddard said, drawing his sword.
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" screamed Eddard, louder than he ever had before, brandishing his sword in the air.
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS! YOU SHALL NOT PASS! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
At the same moment, the southerners came running in their direction. The snow that Harry made fall last night was very effective in slowing them down. Eddard looked around and saw the men starting to grip their weapons more tightly. The second son of Rickard did not waste any more time. He put his sword in the air again, and yelled.
"ARCHERS, GET READY!"
With a collective grunt, the hundred if not thousands of bowmen nocked their arrows.
"RAIN HELL UPON THOSE FUCKERS!"
Arrows flew toward the southerners. Most of them hitting a target. Already the snow was stained with blood. Some were killed since most of the levies did not have their shields up. They were completely taken by surprise by the first wave of the longbows. The investment Harry made years ago paid off, thought Eddard.
Already, thousands of southerners were stuck in the frozen field between the North and the Neck. The chokepoint was doing its job. Ned gave the signal to Rywen to sound the horn twice, which he did in a second. The archers in the courtyard got ready and shot their arrows expertly on the poor assailants. More and more of them succumbed to the rain of arrows falling down on them. The young wolf could hear the screams of pain, terror and death but did not care. They were here to kill his family. To kill his beloved Ashara if they discovered her here.
Suddenly, the winds started to pick up in strength. It was hitting all of his men hard with cold, piercing winds. He knew his friend was about to unleash the terrible winter he promised."Cease fire! Preserve your ammunition!" Eddard the men listened to him and grabbed onto something, not wanting to be blown down by the terrible wind that was crashing on them.
"Its the Old Gods! They are angry with us!" screamed a terrified northern archer.
"No! Look down! In the courtyard!" another said.
Ned looked in said direction, only to see his best friend, Lord Harry Winterstorm, Sorcerer of the North, his eyes glowing green with pure power. He raised his arms to the sky, the small power crystal on his belt seemed to float in the air, only attached only by a small leather strip. He was surrounded by about fifty of his Moat's Wolves. Torrhen was right behind him, his immense warhammer in his hands, ready to protect his lord with his very life if need be.
"TUTELA CONTRA NATURAM!"
An absolutely giant bubble of energy blew up from the impressive man, thus pushing back the torrential winds and snow from Moat Cailin. He seemed to struggle for a moment before calming himself. The young wizard nodded in the direction of his friend and Eddard came back to his senses.
"Come on men! The Gods are with us!"
:-[T.A.B]-:
Gawen knew he was in hell. There were no other possibilities. How in the actual fuck did he find himself in this situation. His lord said that the castle wasn't even fortified. Summer was raging down south. Now they were facing a terrible storm the very first day of their assault. They were still at around a hundred yards from being close enough to even reach the walls. The levies for the Reach were facing a tremendous barrage of arrows and were advancing very slowly due do that and of course, the snow.
The young man was hiding behind a boulder big enough to cover him. All around him, men were dying before even shooting one projectile. Where was Lord Mace Tyrell? The man was nowhere to be seen. The main force of the Reach, the Summer Knights, were not supposed to come and support them for at least a day.
It took around an hour, if not more since Gawen could not really say since he was frightened beyond measure, for the men to arrive at the wall. How the levies managed to do it, he did not know. The field was strewn with corpses and dying men, pleading for mercy and help from anyone.
"You! Get out there and fight, you fucking cow..." a man pointed and started to say before dying of an arrow in the head. Even so, Gawen was now stuck and did not have any choices but to leave his hiding place. He gathered what he could from his own courage, gripped his bow firmly in his hand and ran out screaming a war cry.
As if he was protected by the Seven Gods themselves, the young man from the Reach somehow managed to be close enough to starting using his bow. The northern winds however were way too strong for him to hit anything. Gawen looked around for a new hiding place but saw his captain surrounded by other bowmen running for the wall, where ladders were being put against it.
"Get your arses up there, you lazy cunts!" yelled the captain. "Let us show the northerners what the Reach is capable of!"
The men roared in approval and started climbing the ladders. The ones with the shields went up first, wanting to protect their fellow companions. It was a good decision, as the warriors from the North also started to throw big rocks at them. Gawen tried to use his bow to provide some cover but the winds were still way too strong for him. He put his weapon on his back, took his axe Old Gawen gave him and ran toward the ladders.
:-[T.A.B]-:
Ser Barristan Selmy did not like war, contrary to what many people would think. He was a man of peace, even though he was one of the best swordmen in all of Westeros and probably Essos too. When he joined the North, he knew he would have to fight against the Iron Throne and probably die in the war. He did not mind in the least for he was convinced that this time, he was fighting for something good. He was fighting against a Mad King that he helped save years ago with his new lord and friend, Lord Harry Winterstorm.
Barristan had insisted on being his sworn shield but the man had refused, wanting him to protect his friend, Eddard Stark, during the battle. The stormlander immediately understood why. For Harry, his friends and family meant everything to him. At least, Lord Eddard Stark was a very honorable young man and became a ferocious warrior under his and Ser Lewyn Martell's guidance.
The old knight thought about Rhaegar Targaryen and how much he regretted having saved him at Duskendale. The crazed man was wellon hisway on becoming another Maegor the Cruel and he was only at the start on his reign, started in blood when he murdered his King Father in cold blood in the throne room. The news had shocked Barristan to the core, never thinking the small, kind child he saw grow up would be capable of something this twisted.
When Lord Winterstorm and Lord Rickard Stark had asked of him to protect the young wolf, Barristan knew he would be close to the direct fighting. The older knight watched the younger man giving orders left and right, constantly being on the move on the high walls. He was a natural born leader, despite his calm, almost shy behavior. He was proud of his pupil, as he was of all the Starks.
After a couple of hours of supporting the northern bowmen with supplies, enemy ladders came into his sight. Eddard saw them a second after him.
"Swords, men! Take out your swords! Defend the walls!" yelled the young wolf. The horn bearer immediately gave the signal to change weapons, which the men did fluidly. Barristan took out his own sword, ready to defend his charge.
"My lord!" Captain Rywen said. What about the archers in the courtyard?"
"They must continue the assault. They are doing their jobs at slowing the enemy down fantastically. Unless Lord Winterstorm himself tells me otherwise, we continue with the plan for the day!"
"Very well my lord. Let us show these fucking pieces-of-shit what the North is made off!"
The first wave of enemy warriors finally showed their heads above the ladders. Like a professional army, the northerners quickly killed them. The more time advanced however, the more southerners appeared. Like cockroaches, the Reach levies managed to push their way up the walls and take small portion of the top of the wall.
Ser Barristan stayed calm in the chaos. He was used to the carnage of battle and this was no different, with the exception of being for a true noble cause, compared to his services to the Targaryens. The poor men of Lord Tyrell were poorly armed and armored, which gave almost no problems for the veteran knight. His sword was slashing and piercing anyone who came even close to Eddard. Looking quickly in the direction of the young wolf, the knight saw the young man fighting with all of his talent.
"Ser Barristan! Behind you!"
The stormlander felt a huge blow upon the back of his helmet. He knew he just been hit by something. Luckily for him, the quality of his armor was better than the quality of the blow coming from whomever wielded it. He turned around quickly and saw a man armed with a simple farmer's axe and he wore armor made of fur from different animals. Barristan blocked his next attack with his shield, stunning the other man slightly.
Like the true expert swordman that he was, the ex-member of the kingsguard managed to slash his weapon in half. Now armed with only a wooden stick against one of the best knights to ever grace Westeros, the young man started trembling. He dropped his stick and fell to his knees.
"Please! Please! Do not kill me!"
Ser Barristan raised his sword arm high into air. He was prepared to finish the man off when a sudden flash appeared before his eyes. He saw a family he had killed during the Burning of Duskendale. Then another, and then another. "You killed us." They all repeated. The knight shook his head to remove the vision from his eyes and saw the Reach man still on his knees, his head in his hands, begging for his life. Making a split-second decision,Barristandecided to smash the flat of his sword against his enemy head, renderinghis knightdid not know why, but he knew he just made the right decision.
:-[T.A.B]-:
Benjen, Lyanna and Sura were inside the Direwolf Tower, the main and most protected tower of the fortress. No amount of begging, screaming, or cryingwere able to convince either Lord Rickard Stark or Lord Harry Winterstorm to at least put them on the inner walls, where the bowmen would be at less risk than the outside one.
They were all observing at a distance in the company of Hedwig, who was making sure they did not leave.
"This it so unfair, we trained with the longbow as well and Harry knows it!" pouted Lyanna, crossing her arms for what seemed to be the umpteenth time.
"Harry was not the one who refused, it was Father." Benjen recalled.
"We don't even want to fight directly! At least we can bring them their supplies or their food when it is time! We are useless right now. Even Hedwig would be more useful with Harry then here, guarding us." continued to protest the young girl, throwing her hands in the air.
They watched for afar the war that was going on at their feet. For hours the fight continued. The men of the Reach were screaming and dying in droves and suddenly the sound of a horn rang out. The bowmen on the wall watched as abruptly as thousands of Reach men started running away back towards their camp. It was a victory for the day.
"Come on!" Sura said. "Let's go downstairs and meet our heroes. We also need to help with the wounded. Many will need our help."
Arriving in the main courtyard where hundreds of men and women were running in all directions, Sura, Benjen and Lyanna followed by the white direwolf Hedwig immediately began to direct the operations with their expert hands. They could see that even in the circumstances, the morale was high. They had faced off against the first wave of men of the Reach and easily won in a dramatic fashion. The Sorcerer of the Northhadwon them the day.
:-[T.A.B]-:
The Lord Paramount of the Vale and Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn, was beyond furious for many reasons. He really thought that he would make his friend Rickard see reason and give up this foolish attempt of a rebellion against the Crown, yet fail to do so. The man was just as stubborn as he remembered and threw the king's generous offer in his face. So, war it was.
He let Lord Mace Tyrell lead the hostilities, since the king himself had appointed him as such. He truly believed that the man from Highgarden had received some military training or had some plan in mind. Once again, no. The idiot man's plan was to rush the chokepoint, where numbers had no impact and put fucking ladders on the high walls with only poor levies for the Reach. Not true knights, but smallfolk levies.
Inside his personal tent, looking up from his table with the many reports from the different captain of the army, Lord Arryn looked in dread at the number of dead. The toll was insane for a first day with at the very least a twenty thousand dead and wounded. Most would not pass the night due to the terrible storm that was still raging outside, especially those who were wounded. Jon knew of storms, coming from the high mountains of the Vale but this, this was otherworldly.
The first day was a complete failure. Lord Tyrell couldn't even break through their line in the slightest. The Old Falcon now had to find a way to break through their defenses. He was pulled out of his thought process when a voice spoke up, outside of his tent.
"My lord?" a knight of the Vale said, over the harsh sound of the violent winds. "Lord Mace Tyrell wishes to speak with you."
"Let him in." sighed the older man.
Lord Mace Tyrell opened the tent's flap and let himself in, bringing snow and the wind inside with him. He was wearing his full armor as his station dictated.
"What a fucking day..." grumbled the man. "That fucking storm completely took us by surprise. I never saw it coming in this fucking land."
"Aye, the North is a harsh land but this, this is worse than I ever seen indeed. What do you intend to do, Lord Tyrell?"
"What do you mean, Lord Hand?" asked a puzzled Fat Flower.
"What I mean, my lord, is what do you intend to do with Moat Cailin? Clearly, your strategy did not work as you intended. The northerners truly have their castle rebuilt and were waiting for us firmly. We need a new plan."
"No, Lord Arryn."
"I beg your pardon?" Jon said, surprised about the answer of the man.
"The king, the king himself has given me command of this host. The Reach has beenunder my family's rule for two hundreds years and I will not have my duties deter by anyone. Only King Rhaegar himself can reprimand me for anything. You, my lord Hand, are here to support the Reach in that endeavour. I suggest you start finding ways to do so." said the man pompously.
The Hand of the King sighed dejectedly. He could not let pride get in the way of their objective. They needed to work together in unity. It was the only way to possibly win against such an enemy.
"My lord Tyrell, apologies. The day was long and hard. Seeing so many dead within your army has tired me tremendously."
"Apologies accepted, Lord Arryn. The reason for my coming is that I need your help, or to be more exact, the help of your men."
"How so, Lord Tyrell?"
"Since your men are out of the fight since it is the Reach's job to put the North on their knees, I thought it would made sense if your men at the very least support us by building some portable palisades for my men."
"I can do that, lord Tyrell." was the answer of the Old Falcon.
:-[T.A.B]-:
:-[Day 3]-:
"Any ideas on why they did not attack yesterday, Ser Barristan?" Eddard Stark asked, looking at his mentor and sworn shield.
"Probably to lick their wounds. After we let that young man Gawen from the Reach go with the message for them to come get their dead. Mace Tyrell is not known to be a military genius, contrary to what he would like to be known."
Eddard chuckled at the older man comment's. It was true that the first day was a resounding success in almost every category possible. The North suffered very few losses of life and the wounded were less than a thousand men and women. Now, his sister and brother had something to do with their days in taking care of them. Their presence as members of House Stark helped the men tremendously. The young wolf was grateful to the Old Gods that his beloved Ashara was happy to help also and not simply waiting in the tower. Her and Princess Elia were helping the Stark children, bringing supplies to the warriors on the inner wall and sometime even taking care of the food by. Everyone had their role and no one was hiding in the crypt under Moat Cailin in fright.
The young Stark was looking far ahead into the snowy field and then the enemy camp. Even from here,he could see the movement of the southern camp. He knew right there and then that the third day would bring something different then the first.
:-[T.A.B]-:
Thank you everyone for reading Chapter 36 of The adventure begins! Please let a review in the comment, letting me know what you think about my story or what you would like to see.
Criticism is always welcome as long as it is constructive.
Thank you to abarai72 for his amazing help in developing this story!
To Ptool: Thank ou again for reading my friend. I really appreciate your support!
To Mark1: Mace is indeed an idiot. Thank you for reading!
To BioHazard82 and gefan1: Thank you so much for the support!
To anubis1650: First of all, thank you for taking the time to write your review. I understand your point of view however, the machine Harry is in does not transport him to a world, which is how Kalvyn can control the parameters!